


Feel Alive

by SilverFlameAlchemist



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Immortality, King Bard, Late Nights, Life-Affirming Sex, Needing Comfort, Needing Connections, Nicknames, Strip Tease, Surprise Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Walks that lead to sex, comforting sex, late night visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 05:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12028839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFlameAlchemist/pseuds/SilverFlameAlchemist
Summary: He shivered as the wind changed, rushing down from the mountain in a breath of frigid air. He glanced up as his candle danced in the wind, nearly snuffing out, and caught sight of a figure walking through the garden, springing up like a blossom in the night. His little Thrush.





	Feel Alive

The palace, once it had been rebuilt, was much more modest than most castles of men, but Bard preferred it that way. It was of a serviceable size, providing him, his family, and the members of his council plenty of room to both live and conduct business in. Now that Dale was rebuilt, it sat as a beacon once more, rougher than its previous incarnation, but no less proud. What the palace lacked in size, it more than made up for in detail, beautifully carved stone a gift from Erebor as they rebuil.

Bard and his family had an entire wing to themselves, rooms no longer shared, but still close enough for comfort and peace of mind on the part of the king. His advisors lived in the other wing, with the large banquet hall, courtroom, kitchens, and gardens housed between them.

There was a small study built to the side of Bard’s chambers, the tiny turret providing him privacy to think whenever he needed it. It also granted him a view of the gardens, and the lake beyond. It was there that he now sat, parchment and inkwells cluttering his desk.

The cool night air stirred through the garden as Bard toiled away by candlelight, scribbling out a letter to Dain that needed to be sent in the morning. It was yet another letter of thanks, this time in regards to the armor and weapons that Dain had sent to outfit their soldiers.

It had been a hard winter, but with the new yeyar and the world on the cusp of spring, Bard elt the knot in his chest beginning to loosen.

He shivered as the wind changed, rushing down from the mountain in a breath of frigid air. He glanced up as his candle danced in the wind, nearly snuffing out, and caught sight of a figure walking through the garden. He recognized her at once, an Elf that had accompanied Thranduil to his coronation. She had acted as messenger between the two realms since, appearing from nowhere as she had this time, springing up like a blossom in the night.

He called down to her, and she quickly looked to his tower, curtsying deeply as he beckoned her up. She laughed, and inclined her head, striding more quickly through the moonlit garden.

The guards all had standing orders to let her pass, regardless of the time or day, or night, and Bard hurried to finish his letter before he slipped back down into his chambers.

Having people to keep the place tidy had been a boon he had never realized he needed or wanted until he had taken up residency in the palace, but now he doubted if could have lived without it.

Bard took another quick look around his chambers to ensure they were in order before he heard a quiet knock on his door, and hurried to open it.

“ _Mae govannen_ , My Lady.” He greeted, bowing his head.

“ _Mae govannen_ , My Lord.” She returned, smiling as she curtsied once more. “It is good to see you, as always.”

“And you, My Lady.” He chuckled, attempting to keep his gaze on her face, despite his urge to let his eyes roam.

Her gown sparkled like starlight, silvered greens and greys draped elegantly over her figure. Her hair was swept back at the temples, wound into complicated braids that tumbled down her back, and a thin circlet graced her brow.

“Is Lord Thranduil well?” He asked instead, giving his mouth something to do besides smile dopily.

“Yes, My Lord.” She smiled, and the air grew thin. “He sends his regards, and wishes you well.”

“And what brings you so far from your woodland realm?” He swallowed thickly. “And so late in the day. It must be an urgent matter.”

She looked, for a fraction of a second, _embarrassed_ , but quickly recovered, looking pointedly at the floor.

“I must confess, My Lord, I have no matter that compelled me here tonight. I began walking through the woods, and my thoughts turned to you… Before I quite realized it, I was in your garden.” Her voice lowered, a secret for him alone. “Had you not seen me, I would have returned at once.”

“I am glad, then, that I caught you.” He confessed, words and sentiment bubbling out of him before he could think to stopper them up. “A midnight Thrush lost in my garden is always a delight.”

She laughed, a sound like silver bells, and met his eye. “You are too kind, My King. Many would not take so kindly to lost birds stealing into their gardens at night.”

“Many do not have the privledge of seeing birds such as you.” Bard licked his lips, a failed attempt to catch the words that had already slipped from his tongue. “But I overstep. I apologize. You are welcome here any time.”

She arched an eyebrow. “In your private chambers, My Lord? Do you make such offers to _all_ the young ladies of your court?”

Bard’s face flushed , an apology ready to fly from his tongue, ut he caught the tiniest glimmer of a smirk on her lips, and changed tacts.

“Only little birds who steal into my gardens.”

He had the immense delight of seeing her lips part in surprise, color rising in her chees as she glanced to the floor again.

“Would you care for a drink?” He offered, moving deeper into the room. “I have some rather good Darwinian wine…”

“Wine I am well acquainted with, but… Some ale, perhaps?”

“I have that too.” Bard chuckled, motioning her to have a seat by the fire. “Anything else?”

“Your excellent company.” She smiled, sinking into the offered chair.

“I believed that was a given.” He poured them both drinks, settling into the chair opposite hers. “However, I am at a disadvantage. I’m afraid I have no skill when it comes to small talk.”

She laughed again, sipping the strong Dwarven ale. “How is your family? Adjusting to their new life?”

“Very well.” He laughed. “My youngest, especially.”

“Tilda, yes?”

“Yes. She’s taken to the royal life like a fish to water. Sigrid too, in her own way.”

“But not your son?”

“Bain will have to rule, one day. I prefer to let him be a child while he still can.”

She smiled, nodding. “Best to make the most of the time that you are given.”

“Especially when you are given so short an amount.” Bard snorted. “I cannot begin to imagine what I would do if I had a lifespan like yours.”

“It is not the boon many make it out to be.” She smiled. “It can be lonely, and no matter how desperately one may wish to act as a force for good, it is not always that simple.”

Bard chuckled softly, downing the last of his ale. She followed suit, and held out her cup for a refill.

“I can understand the loneliness.” He admitted. “But surely you can see how much good you have done in the world.”

“It is not easy.” She admitted. “But triumphs like Dale… They do help remind us of what we have done.”

“You may steal into my garden any time, then, if it helps to remind you of what you have accomplished.”

“And if that same bird wished to steal into your bed?”

“I would be delighted to have the company.” He admitted. “I would not _expect_ it, however.”

“Neither would I.” She chuckled. “But that should not imply that I would not enjoy it.”

“I also do not wish to presume or take advantage… This is not the ale talking, is it?”

“It did make it easier to say, but no… This is something I have been thinking on for quite some time.”

A flush rose up the back of Bard’s neck and settled into his cheeks. A similar heat settled low in his belly, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Our desires seem to be aligned then.” He managed.

She glanced to the door, rising from her chair and moving to it, sliding the lock into place before she returned her attention to him, sipping her ale as she walked back to her chair.

“Are you content to talk and drink our ale, or do you have other designs, My Lord?”

“I would not presume, My Lady.” He answered. “As I said, I would enjoy your company, but I do not expect it.”

“And yet here we are.” She smiled. “If you do not wish for me to stay, then—“

“I would be honored.” He interrupted. “However, that is only if—“

It was her turn to interrupt him, her lips catching his off-guard. A soft noise escaped him as he set his ale aside, his lap suddenly occupied by a beautiful Elf.

“Let me live, for the night. I wish to share your warmth while I may, dance beneath the starlight while we both still have time.” She pressed her forehead to his, whispering. “Grant me this boon, My King, I beg of you.”

He caught her face in his hands, calloses kissing her cheekbones as he looked her in the eye. She raised a hand to hold one of his in place, leaning into the touch with a soft smile, eyes fluttering closed.

“Why me, My Lady?”

“Because I see a light in you that I have not seen in an age.” She whispered back. “It is beautiful to behold, and so rare in the race of Men. You have a good heart, My King, and I would see for myself how brightly you can shine.”

He kissed her, pulling her in close, and she melted into his touch, fingers losing themselves in his hair. He returned the gesture, mindful of her braids , and brushed his fingers over her pointed ears. She let out a cry that he gobbled up at once, a low growl slipping from his lips and into hers.

“Are you sure about this? A coupling of this kind—“

“I have never been so sure of a thing in all my long life.” She leaned in to whisper against his ear, lips brushing past the ridge as she loosed his hair from its single tie. “Please, Bard, help me feel alive.”

Bard guided her from his lap, and she instantly looked to the floor, but he tilted her chin back up, leaning in to press a soft, slow kiss to her lips.

“It would be an honor, My Lady.”

He pulled her into his arms once more, a hand on the back of her neck as the other tried to find a way into her robes, and she laughed against his lips as he growled in frustration.

“Sit, My Lord, please.” She pushed him toward the seat. “Allow me.”

Bard dutifully sat, and watched as she began to deftly slip the knots that held her gown in place loose, each layer falling away to pool around her feet as she swayed to music only she could hear, turning the act of undressing into a hypnotic dance, captivating the king as he continued to watch, transfixed by her.

She was left, at last, bare before him, and he let his gaze roam over her figure, skin golden in the firelight. She spun slowly for him, hands rising to remove her circlet, but he spoke suddenly, halting her.

“Leave it, please.”

She curtsied deeply, her eyes never leaving his. “Yes, My King.”

“It seems you have me at a disadvantage yet again.” He managed; his mouth very dry. “I am still dressed.”

“You should see to that.” She teased; turning and drifting toward his bedchamber. “Or I might have to enjoy my own company.”

Another growl tore from him as he leapt from his seat, tearing off his clothes as he chased her down the hall to his bedchamber, stopping in the doorway to admire the sight of her on his bed, long hair swaying in a shimmering curtain over one shoulder as she looked him over, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she beckoned him closer.

“Come, My King.”

He strode slowly to her, deliberately taking his time as he watched her eyes continue to trace over him, the scars he wore, the muscles that years working the docks had developed, the stories that his skin told as he moved through the moonlight that poured in through the window.

“You seem distracted, My Lady.” He teased, standing at the edge of the bed, his hands, skating up her thighs as they bracketed his hips. “Should I try to catch your attention?”

“You have it.” She breathed, shivering under his touch. “You may have all of me.”

He leaned down until her arms found their way around his neck, sliding his hands under her thighs and hoisting her up, a soft gasp leaving her as their chests touched, her legs wrapping around him as he held her aloft.

“I will cherish every moment.” He promised, kissing her deeply.

She traced a hand over his back and shoulders, the other lost in his hair as he held her with one hand, marveling at how light she was, the other free to glide across her skin, rubbing over her side before he cupped her breast, squeezing gently. She let out another soft cry, and he grinned, continuing the motion, rubbing the pad of his thumb lightly against her nipple, feeling it harden and peak under his ministrations.

He switched hands, giving her other breast the same treatment, and he hummed as her nails dug gently into his back, their lips parting only to catch their breath, cries drunk like the sweetest wine as they continued to explore and play. Bard shifted his hold on her, sliding one hand down between her legs, earning another soft cry as he found her weeping entrance, circling it gently with a finger before he pulled away, putting his forehead to hers.

“How would you like me, My Lord?”

He chuckled. “I was going to ask you the same.”

She giggled, tightening her grip so she could press closer to him, rolling her hips against his. He hummed, slipping back to her entrance, circling it again before he slipped a finger inside. She let out sound that had him groaning, pressing into her with more urgency.

“Please, Bard, pu-put me down.” She managed, panting into his ear softly.

He did as she asked, and she scooted back on the bed, her face flushed. “I-I would have your mouth on me, My King… While you continue…”

He chuckled, climbing up over her. “As you wish, My Lady.”

He kissed down her neck as he laid her back against the pillows on his bed, her hands trailing up his arms and over his back again, pulling him closer. He kissed over her collarbones and down between her breasts, earning a disappointed little groan when he continued to her abdomen.

“ _Bard_.” She begged, tugging his hair to guide him higher once more. “Please.”

He flicked his tongue over her nipple, her back arching off the bed, and he hummed as he took it into his mouth, earning another cry of his name. He slipped another finger into her, taking his time as he pleasured her, feeling his own desire steadily building as he continued to earn cries of pleasure from her.

He switched his mouth to her other breast, his free hand coming up to play with the other, and she clawed at his back, hips rocking upward.

“ _Please!”_

He pulled back slowly, looking down at her, her face flushed and hair splayed out beneath her. He leaned forward again, kissing her deeply as he slipped inside her, easing himself inside until he was fully seated, a groan bubbling out of her throat as she wrapped her legs around his waist again. He started to move, slowly at first, but quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm as she urged him on, Elven slipping out now and then as she babbled, his lips, tongue, and teeth preoccupied with her throat, his hands roaming and stroking.

He felt his climax coming and started to pull out, but she held him in place, another soft whisper of his name the last push he needed to tumble off the edge of pleasure and into a sea of starlight, his vision whiting out for a moment as pleasure shot through him like a surge of lighting, a groan ripping from his throat as she did the same, nails digging into his back, leaving more marks to tell their story.

As his mind returned to him, he put his forehead to hers, chuckling as she panted with him, eyes locked together as he slowly pulled out, earning another shiver from the Elf below him, another soft moan following soon after as she shook and panted.

“Let it wash over you.” He whispered, pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair as she continued to shiver, curling into his chest. “I am here. I have you.”

“Thank you.” She managed, littering kisses over his chest as their legs twined together. “That… Thank you.”

He laughed. “I believe I told you before… You are welcome here any time.”

She looked up at him, a sly smile on her lips. “I will keep that in mind, My King, should I find myself on another late-night walk.”

“Please do.” He kissed her again, soft and slow. “I look forward to your company again, little Thrush.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Hobbit and all its related characters belong to: J.R.R. Tolkien


End file.
